


Rough

by genmitsu



Series: Thorns [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, unhealthy BDSM practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Jim and Oswald have casual sex. But then feelings get involved...---It’s the rocking that does it, Jim thinks. There’s something primal in the rhythm that the primitive part of his brain just can’t resist, and it doesn’t really matter who’s moaning under him as long as he gets to thrust into the reciprocating body. That’s why he finds himself time and again in Oswald Cobblepot’s bedroom. He’s the easiest. He never says he’s not in the mood. Doesn’t expect anything in return, not even a call or a favour. Yields to Jim’s whims and is up for anything, really, bondage, sex toys, whatever. Jim can try out any fantasy with him and Oswald would just smile and get on board.





	Rough

 

It’s the rocking that does it, Jim thinks. There’s something primal in the rhythm that the primitive part of his brain just can’t resist, and it doesn’t really matter who’s moaning under him as long as he gets to thrust into the reciprocating body. That’s why he finds himself time and again in Oswald Cobblepot’s bedroom. He’s the easiest. He never says he’s not in the mood. Doesn’t expect anything in return, not even a call or a favour. Yields to Jim’s whims and is up for anything, really, bondage, sex toys, whatever. Jim can try out any fantasy with him and Oswald would just smile and get on board.

Perhaps the rocking does it for him as well. He’s moaning in quite a pleased way, if Jim’s allowed to say that himself, and a gag in his mouth doesn’t muffle all the sounds Oswald makes. There’s a trickle of saliva on the side of his mouth, and his skin is very hot and flushed, and he struggles against the bindings on his wrists, but Jim knows it’s just for show. Oswald likes it when Jim binds him.

He also really likes it when Jim’s in the mood for some domination and commands him in a stern voice. Jim thinks it must be bringing him back to the times when Oswald was just an umbrella boy, and who knows what he went through during that time. But Oswald trembles way too excitedly and maybe he’s just submissive at heart. Jim doesn’t care. As long as he lets Jim fuck him raw, he doesn’t care.

Jim never holds back. Sure, he’d prepare him and everything, but Jim likes rough sex, and he likes it when Oswald is tight and just a little bit dry. Oswald grins with too much delight to be opposed to the idea, and Jim thinks he could be masochistic too. He took so much punishment during his life it may have become a coping mechanism, and honestly, Jim doesn’t need to think about it. He just needs – this. Oswald, bound and gagged under him, completely at his mercy for everything, and thoroughly enjoying Jim’s cock pounding into him. Deeper and deeper, Jim’s balls slapping against Oswald’s butt with every move because Jim can’t go slow and shallow, he buries himself in completely, and Oswald is so, so tight, Jim’s cock stretching him still even after they’ve been at it for almost an hour by now. He clenches around Jim so well, and makes such wanton sounds, thoroughly trained by now just how to make it more pleasurable for him, a perfect sex toy, and it’s so good, so devastatingly good Jim could almost kiss him.

They never do.

It wasn’t something they both stated outright, and they’re okay with mouthing at the skin, and some biting and licking, Jim kisses Oswald’s clavicles almost every time they fuck, the delicate bones always such a turn-on, and Oswald likes kissing Jim’s fingers, and Jim rims Oswald every now and then, but kissing on the mouth is definitely off-limits. Jim doesn’t want to think what it means. That it’s impersonal for both of them, that they don’t need that kind of connection? He shouldn’t care. But lately he’s thinking about it more and more, Oswald’s mouth always on his mind, and not sucking his cock too. Jim thinks just how it would feel to actually kiss his lips, take even that bit of Oswald for himself, to not let anything else be kept from him, own him wholly, completely, forever and ever. He doesn’t act on it, suppressing it instead. Sex should be enough. This pleasure, purely physical satisfaction, should be enough. The rocking does it for him, for them. Jim spills inside with a tortured groan, his mouth inches away from Oswald’s, his skin crawling and tingling at once as his vision blurs. Somehow amid all this grinding he’s found Oswald’s cock as well and squeezed it just right, and now there’s semen spilled on both their stomachs and Oswald writhes under him, clenching even more, biting at the gag, and Jim just watches, watches, and he wants those lips on his and he wants those bites and those gasps and he must be going crazy.

He slips out, both in a rush and with reluctance, disgusted at himself for this, for these feelings, for wanting this so much and enjoying it so much, and it’s not just sex anymore, and Jim wants more but Oswald turns away from him, breathing heavily, his body still shuddering, and he looks so closed-off Jim doesn’t think Oswald cares for anything ‘more’ from him. He undoes the bindings on his wrists and takes the gag out carefully, wiping the skin. Oswald cradles his jaw at once, it’s definitely tired from the unnatural position, and Jim watches him curl, watches how his cum leaks out of Oswald’s hole and he wants to lean in and lick him clean, and he stands up before he does something stupid. Jim gets dressed quickly, avoiding to look at Oswald. He’s putting on his jacket as Oswald asks, “Same time on Wednesday?”, sounding so rough and tense and barely intelligible that Jim is once again overwhelmed with the desire to get back in bed with him and just hold him close until Oswald relaxes again.

“Yeah,” Jim nods instead, still not looking at him. “Same time.”

He leaves the room that stinks of sex, carrying the smell on himself, and when he gets home he can’t bring himself to wash it off.

 

Wednesday finds them in more or less the same position. Oswald, with a ball gag again, completely naked and with his wrists bound with a pair of leather cuffs, bent over the bedside, and Jim driving into him with force, gripping his hips so hard his fingers are sure to leave bruises. Oswald moans for him through the gag, the sounds muffled, but Jim knows how to discern them now, and it’s definitely more pleasure than pain, even though today Jim’s barely stretched him. And Jim isn’t exactly average, his cock is thick and long for his height, but Oswald doesn’t use the safe sign, ever, taking it instead, rolling his own hips to meet Jim’s thrusts, and maybe he won’t kiss him, but the way Oswald moves for him could almost compensate for that.

Except that Jim is greedy, he never knew that until he’d met Oswald, but he’s greedy for him, for his moans and his body and his eyes that look at Jim with such intensity sometimes Jim can hardly bear it. He’s greedy for his breath and his sounds, and his skin, and that’s why Oswald is almost always naked for him while Jim can barely hold back enough to drop his trousers. They hardly talk, but Jim is also greedy for that, for every piece of mind Oswald shares, and he wants to talk more, know more, learn more, but that’s not their arrangement and Jim is too cowardly to try and change it now.

Jim pulls out and slaps Oswald’s butt hard, once, twice, eliciting a whimper out of him, before he makes him stand and crawl fully onto the bed. Oswald lays there face down, panting heavily, the air making a whistling sound because of the gag, and Jim watches him tremble slightly on the sheets, laid bare for him, only for him, and his head is spinning. He slaps Oswald’s butt again, forcefully, leaving angry marks on the pale skin, and he doesn’t want to stop even when the sounds Oswald makes become more pained. He doesn’t want to stop, wants to break him more, wants to make him cry, the ugly, ugly feeling in his chest filling him whole, making him think that if Oswald doesn’t want to kiss him, doesn’t want tenderness from him, loving the cruel sex they have instead, then Jim would do his best to give him this pain, this cruelty and roughness, make it the best ever, so that Oswald wouldn’t dare to look to somebody else for that. So that Jim would be the only one who broke him like that, so that Jim would own him like that, having seen the darkest parts of him and welcoming them still.

He turns Oswald over, on his back, watching his face and Oswald’s eyes are delighted, looking at Jim with awe instead of tears and resentment, and there’s challenge there too, and Jim groans, putting his cock back inside Oswald once more. He wants to fuck him senseless, until he’s limping on _both_ legs, fuck him until he won’t be able to keep those amazing eyes of his open, and Jim growls as he thrusts in, and in, and in. His hands roam Oswald’s chest and find his nipples, pinching them, and Oswald arches his back and moans louder then, and Jim lets his calloused fingers bother the small nubs further, before he leans in and licks one, sucking it into his mouth. Oswald sounds differently now, his voice going hoarse, his movements becoming jerky and erratic, and Jim breaks away to look at his face. God. His eyes are burning their mark right into Jim, he will never be able to erase that, and he rocks his hips harder, each movement breaking a moan out of him as well, and he sounds miserable, never being able to look away from Oswald. Oswald smirks then, and moves his hips a certain way that lets Jim get even _deeper,_ and squeezes him, practically forcing the orgasm out of him and Jim just can’t hold back anymore, not now, not like this, and he leans in and kisses Oswald’s mouth, desperately clinging to him as he feels Oswald getting sloppy inside with his cum, feels Oswald spilling for him in turn, and he can’t break away from his mouth, kissing him over the gag, wanting more, more, more…

Oswald stills under him, lets out a whimper, and taps out.

Jim freezes. They never said no to kissing. Never said no to anything between them. Anything goes. Anything. Oswald took getting fucked without sufficient preparation, took Jim spanking him and flogging him, denying him orgasms, took Jim’s commands, took a vibrator getting shoved inside and left there for better part of an hour as he sucked Jim off and off with no hands, took being bound and cuffed and fucked over and over again, and never once did he use their safeword or the safe sign… and he taps out after a kiss that’s not even a real kiss.

Jim feels cold wash over him, and he moves away slowly, looking at anything except Oswald’s face, focusing on his neck instead. It’s tense, so tense, and it tenses more as Jim’s cock slips out at last, and then it turns, Oswald curling up again. Jim reaches out to undo the cuffs and Oswald jerks away. Jim gulps and reaches again, slower, avoiding to touch his skin or holding his wrist, and only touching those buckles. Oswald takes his hands back as soon as the belts are undone and shakes the cuffs off himself. He doesn’t let Jim undo the gag either, reaching for the clasp with his shaking fingers instead, and then it’s open, and he drops the gag, cradling his jaw again. Jim sits there, paralyzed, unable to move away - or closer, because even if he can’t face Oswald, his body is too rigid and stiff to welcome Jim’s touch, any touch. The cum is trickling down Oswald’s shivering legs again, the sight lewd and dirty, the only things surrendered to him, and Jim feels such inexplicable and yet unbearable pain that it finally spurs him on to stand up.

He puts his trousers back on and buttons up his shirt. The shoes are so annoying, he has to lace them, all the while the silence in the room weighing down on him, suffocating him, and he’s never been more aware of another person’s presence than right now, Oswald still curled up on the bed just a couple of feet away and not letting out a sound. Jim puts on his jacket. He coughs uneasily.

“Same time?” he asks, and his voice is rough and hurting in his throat.

“...Same time,” Oswald whispers back.

Jim doesn’t remember how he makes it home. The smell of Oswald is all over him, the smell of their sex - he can’t call it love-making, but he wants it to be, and Jim can’t hold back a dry sob that shudders his whole body as he thinks about Oswald closing off from him again. He falls asleep with the shirt next to him on his pillow, keeping their smell, all the days until their next session.

 

He steps into the room with apprehension, unease still in his limbs, in his core. Oswald is there waiting for him, and he’s fully dressed, like always, and meeting Jim’s eyes with the same steady look, like always. Jim gives him a tight-lipped smile, approaching, and brings his hands to his tie, like always. Oswald tips his head back, allowing him the freedom, and runs his hands over Jim’s shoulders. Like always.

Everything is the same as always, but Jim feels he’s not fitting the mould anymore, like something’s changed in him - and in Oswald - so much that the usual activities are just a pretense now which they both play along with to avoid facing this change. But his reaction to Oswald is undeniably the same, he’s getting hard so fast, at the mere sight of him, even before he hears his first gasp. Oswald is so unreserved in his responses when Jim touches him, gasping, whimpering, sighing as his clothes get dropped to the floor and more of his smooth skin gets Jim’s attention. Jim lets Oswald touch him too, his fingers bringing shivers down Jim’s spine, and he can’t, won’t hold back. No restraints today, no gags or anything extra, just Oswald shoved onto the bed as Jim reaches for the bottle of lube. He applies it on his fingers and hitches Oswald’s leg higher, entering him carefully. Jim goes slower than usual, taking care to stretch Oswald more, curling his fingers inside until he finds the spot that makes him moan, and then he unzips his trousers swiftly, dropping them to his knees, and pushes inside Oswald, into that tight little hole, into his wonderfully hot and responsive body, making him cry out loud.

Oswald grabs at Jim’s forearms, gripping hard, his mouth open, his moans throaty and strained. Jim drives into him hard, so hard, grunting, and he can’t hold back so he leans closer and bites Oswald’s shoulder, and continues on to kiss his neck as he thrusts deeper still, and he buries his face into the crook of Oswald’s neck, kissing, biting, and then he opens his eyes to a hickey he never left.

Jim freezes mid-friction, completely petrified as he looks at the mark. It’s a big, bright mark in the shape of someone else’s mouth, someone else’s teeth, on the perfect smoothness of Oswald’s neck closer to his nape, and Jim didn’t mark him last time, he _knows._ He pulls up to face Oswald, who’s broken out of his pleasure and looking at Jim questioningly, unsure that maybe it’s one of their plays.

“Jim?..” he asks when Jim doesn’t make any moves at all. “Why did you stop?”

Jim watches him, his face, his eyes, as he reaches out his hand to touch the marked spot.

“What… is… this?” he asks slowly, so slowly, his voice tender and alien to his ears.

Oswald flushes bright-red and there’s a spark of defiance in his eyes.

“You know what it is, Jim.”

“Yeah. What is it doing on your neck?” Jim asks, still so tenderly, tracing the mark with his finger. Oswald shivers at the touch, the tiny movement reminding them how close and connected they are, and Jim feels that this is just too much. He can’t have Oswald on his terms, he can’t have Oswald on Oswald’s terms, even when he does his best to give Oswald what he wants and ignores his own aching heart. He’s torn between fleeing the room at once, never to return, or taking his last chance, last opportunity to make the best of it, make love to him like he wanted.

He takes the third option - and drives into Oswald with enough force to shake him whole.

“Answer me,” Jim says softly and yet his movements are anything but. “Who was it?”

Oswald trembles under him, Jim’s cock hitting his prostate spot-on with every move, making Oswald bite down on his lip and still moan out loud.

“Who was it?” Jim asks, running his hand over Oswald’s cock, making his whole body arch to prolong the contact. “Who?”

Oswald gasps and grips Jim’s arms again, his eyes so defiant and intense Jim can’t look away.

“It’s none-- of your-- business-- Jim!”

“Is it now?..” Jim drawls softly, teasing the slit of Oswald’s cock. He leans closer and brings his face within an inch of Oswald’s. “What if I make it mine?” He licks along Oswald’s jaw. “What if I make _you_ mine?”

“You’re too much-- of a coward-- for that!” Oswald draws his nails hard over Jim’s shoulders and back, his legs wrapping around Jim’s hips, making him go harder with each thrust.

“Try me,” Jim says, suddenly sober, and rolls his hips slowly, almost slipping out, before driving ruthlessly into Oswald again. Oswald rakes his hands over Jim’s back, making Jim writhe, and their eyes are locked and blazing, finally focused fully on each other, seeing clearly.

“Kiss me, Jim,” Oswald commands in a harsh whisper. “Kiss me hard.”

Jim groans and complies, his mouth slotting against Oswald’s perfectly, those lips so firm and hot, and answering him, oh God, matching him so well, like they were always meant for this. Jim thrusts harder, Oswald’s mouth opening in a moan, and he slips his tongue inside, and it couldn’t be better - hot and wet and that clever little tongue running along Jim’s own in a pattern that almost whips him into frenzy. Jim’s hips move so fast and so hard now, Oswald is wrapping tighter around him, digging his nails into Jim’s shoulders, and the rocking shakes the bed like never before, and Jim never wanted anyone more than this, never wanted anything more than this, and he groans as he grips Oswald’s ass and all but impales him on his cock, catching his cry with his lips.

“I won’t share you,” Jim growls into his mouth. “Get it into your head, Oswald,” he says as he trails little bites over Oswald’s neck and wraps his hand around his cock again. “You will only belong to me.”

“As long…” Oswald pants, pressing closer to him still, trembling, “As you only belong to _me_.”

The shiver that runs down Jim’s spine at his words is purely psychological pleasure, something he never expected, never craved from anyone else, but here, with Oswald… he _wants_ it. He wants to belong to him fully as much as he wants to own him, wants to be owned, claimed, wants to possess Oswald in his entirety as well as be possessed by him in turn. He grips him tighter and kisses him again, desperately, his lips hungry for Oswald’s.

“Yes,” he whimpers between kisses. “I will. I am.”

Just don’t leave me, he wants to say, but he’s reached the peak, with Oswald shuddering deliciously around him and throwing his head back as he climaxes with a loud moan, and so Jim buries himself in to the hilt as he comes as well, groaning out Oswald’s name. The stars dance before his eyes, blotting out all the rest, but Oswald’s quivering in his arms is unmistakably real, more real than it has ever been, and Jim feels like he is finally complete. He never wants to move away, and Oswald doesn’t let him, and they stay like that, just feeling each other’s tiniest movements, coming down.

Oswald stirs after a while, and Jim reaches for his lips again, kissing him softly as his cock slips out. Jim smirks then, and slides down Oswald’s body to look at his hole, contracting slowly and leaking cum, and Jim does what he always wanted to. He grips Oswald’s trembling hips and runs his tongue along the entrance, tasting himself as he licks Oswald clean, and Oswald’s voice shatters into whimpers and gasps at the feeling of Jim’s tongue entering him gently and trying to calm the irritated skin. Jim has trouble stopping, the sensations too good, the sounds Oswald makes too sensual to stop, and he only stills as Oswald puts his hands on his head and tries tugging him back up.

“Jim,” he gasps softly, “I will never refuse you anything, but right now I want you close… please?”

Jim smiles and pulls himself up, gathering Oswald in his arms. His body is still quivering slightly, pressing into Jim’s, and Jim doesn’t hold back with kisses to his head and his cheeks and his neck. The offensive mark is still there, and Jim sucks the skin over it, leaving new ones in its place. He doesn’t want to be bothered by it, not after their promises, but it still itches in the back of his mind, making his skin crawl.

“Oswald… who was it?” he asks softly and feels Oswald tense. “I won’t get angry. I just want to know.”

Know who else Oswald trusted enough to allow them to touch him like this. Did he like it? Were they better at it than Jim was, did Oswald compare the two of them? Jim doesn’t want to be feeling this, but he also feels the urge to _destroy_ that unknown stranger, so that they would never come between him and Oswald again.

“You wouldn’t like the answer, Jim,” he says quietly, stilling in his arms.

“I don’t like the doubts I have now,” Jim tightens his hold on Oswald. “You have no idea what you do to me. Don’t torture me like this.”

“Oh,” Oswald relaxes, melting into Jim once again. “I… I paid a sex worker… she only had to leave a mark, and we didn’t do anything else.”

The realisation hits Jim hard. He always knew Oswald was manipulative, but like this? to this extent? with him thinking of Jim’s reactions and making a play for that?

“I didn’t have the courage to confess to you directly, Jim,” Oswald continues. “I felt that I… might have a chance at reciprocation, but I was so afraid to truly put myself out there and tell you. I’m sorry.” He grips Jim’s hand tight and lets go, awaiting rejection even now.

Jim closes his eyes. He should feel outrage at being played like this, but in reality… Oswald was playing himself. Jim never told him he wanted more than their casual sex, never told him he appreciated him, while sending him mixed signals all the time. No wonder Oswald had doubts, and no wonder that after that kiss spurred him on, he tried to make sure of where Jim really stood with him, in the most subtle way possible. Because if Jim didn’t have any feelings, he would’ve ignored the mark for the sake of their continued sexual relationship. If Jim had some feelings but didn’t want anything deeper than this superficial relationship, he’d cut this off. And only if Jim _had_ feelings and was jealous would he stay. Oswald was giving Jim all the excuses, bracing himself for heartbreak at the same time, and never once blaming Jim for anything. Jim feels stinging in his eyes as he tightens his embrace more.

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tense. “I am, for putting you through this. And I can’t promise I will always understand you, but… I’m yours, and I’ll try.”

He searches for Oswald’s mouth then, and it’s there, opening readily for him, hot and hungry after his words, and Oswald buries his hand in Jim’s hair, bringing him even closer and biting at his lips, dragging a moan out of Jim, and then he pulls his head back and presses his lips to Jim’s neck, kissing hard, _marking_ him, marking Jim as _his own,_ and Jim trembles with arousal he never knew could stem from something like this.

The rocking had nothing to do with that after all.

 

 


End file.
